Love Before Danger
by skepticandcynic
Summary: In their line of work no job was simple, even complicated seemed an understatement, but this one gave convoluted a whole new meaning. Arthur was never meant to get in this deep, and this wasn't even a dream, this was real. Arthur/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

The propellors of the helicopter spun above them deafeningly. Eames and Arthur stared at each other uneasily as it landed.

"Three guesses about who our next guest is?" Eames offered, a smirk playing on his lips. Arthur produced no reply, he knew who it would be, he just couldn't understand why, or how. Arthur had been first on board, presumed it was just a solo job, but an hour or so later, when Eames had also been collected, he'd begun to suspect it could be more serious. Sure enough, a few moments later, the door opened and Ariadne stepped on board, clutching the strap of her bag tightly. She sank into the seat next to Arthur, lines of concern rapidly etching themselves into her face.

"What the hell's going on?" She was confused, and neither of her companions could blame her. It was unnerving that they had all been brought together; no one knew that they had worked on the inception job together, except - "Cobb?" she asked, her thoughts carrying her to a conclusion Arthur and Eames had arrived at a while before.

"Already checked," Arthur told her, showing her the phone that he was clutching tightly in his hand. "We have no idea what's going on."

They fell into silence, their thoughts captivating them despite the deafening noise. Arthur plunged his hand into his pocket, exhaling deeply as he found the loaded die. He had double checked numerous times that this wasn't a dream, but he still didn't like the fact that someone else seemed to be calling the shots. His next move was to the gun that was tucked into his waistline beneath his blazer. It made him feel reassured, like at least he was able to retain one modicum of control. He didn't like the fact that someone knew they had worked together, especially as they had only had fleeting contact with each other since the Fischer job.

Time seemed to drift by in bursts as they continued on their journey, by the time the helicopter landed Ariadne's knuckles were white she was clutching the seat so hard. The door opened and they were ushered into a building, being led through various corridors until they arrived at a door. "Dmitri Martov" was stamped into the gold plaque on the door and a silent wave of recognition swept through the group.

"New job?" Eames murmured to Arthur as they were showed into the room.

"It would seem that way."

* * *

The room was square, with wood-panelled walls that seemed to fade into shadow at each corner. It felt claustrophobic, an extraordinarily uncomfortable feeling for three people who spent most of their time within dream labyrinthes.

A middle aged man sat behind the mahogany desk in front of them, his dark eyebrows furrowed and his hands clasped together, resting calmly on the front of his charcoal grey suit.

"How did you hear about us?" Eames interjected into the silence, asking the question all three of them had in their minds, his British voice far too light for the seriousness of the situation. Arthur looked at the ceiling, trying to assess every aspect of the room without attracting attention; he was a man of detail, and felt much more comfortable once he knew where he was and what was within his capabilities.

"I have my contacts," Martov's voice was inscrutable, and they waited for his instruction, realising they would get no more explanation than that. They watched as he leaned forward, opening a folder that was on his desk and flicking through it briefly. "My corporation has only one major international rival. Smith Security is the only company that is preventing my own from becoming the undisputed world leader in cyber security. I want to know how I can destroy it. I want to know what Timothy Smith's going to do before he does it. This is why I've brought you here. His daughter," he paused, sliding a photograph of a blonde woman towards them. "I want you to extract any information you can from her."

Eames rolled his eyes surreptitiously, it was all so hopelessly mundane. Corporate sabotage. It was always the same.

"Sir, why not go straight through Smith himself? Why the daughter?" Arthur asked, his voice betraying his confusion at their contract.

"Because he is one of the most heavily guarded men on this earth and the daughter may know something we could use. They haven't exactly been known for having a perfect father-daughter relationship."

"May know? We normally go on more than the strength of speculation." Eames was beginning to sound annoyed.

"Well considering I'll be paying you each one million dollars I'm not expecting you to question me too much."

"And if we get nothing from the girl?" Ariadne chimed in.

"Then it'll be up to you to work out how best to get the information I need. But I will not be happy if you come back to me with nothing."

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_Reviews would be lovely. The story is being written for you lot after all._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for all the feedback/subscriptions etc. to the last chapter! This chapter isn't too exciting, but the story is going somewhere, I promise!_

* * *

Chapter 2:

The warehouse seemed to shake as the door clattered behind Eames. He walked over to the tables where plans and maps and details were strewn out in the centre of the room. The building was flooded with the sunlight that was streaming through the windows but none of the inhabitants were feeling particularly awake. It was with an appreciative murmur that they each took one of the cups of coffee Eames placed on the desk.

"I'm still not convinced any of this is a good plan," Arthur stated, leaning against the table and surveying some of the information they'd got.

"Oh really? That's news to me!" Eames retorted, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Let's go extract information from a girl who more than likely knows nothing, so we can _not_ get paid and probably get killed. I still don't understand why the daughter's the mark."

They had had this conversation numerous times, their words running around in similar circles until they reached equally similar non-conclusions.

"It's emotional isn't it?" Ariadne commented, tapping her cheek thoughtfully with the end of a pencil. She looked up reluctantly from the drawings she had created and waited to see if anyone replied. No one did. "Well, it's more than sabotage. It must be some sort of deep seated hatred because he wants to be able to not only ruin Smith's business, but he wants to be able to say that his daughter helped him do it," she concluded, bowing her head modestly when Eames and Arthur stared incredulously. "…I think."

"You might actually have a point, but even so, all this," Eames continued, gesturing towards the files on the table. "Suggests that she's cut off almost all contact with her father. The only input he has now is financial. It just seems pointless."

"It's not like you to argue so much against a million dollars," Arthur observed smirking. "Even so, it doesn't exactly seem like we can walk away from this one. Martov made that relatively clear. We're better off just seeing what we can do."

Eames studied Arthur for a moment, looking pensively from him to Ariadne. "Alright, what's the plan?"

"Research," Arthur replied, ignoring the noise of disgust Eames emitted. They had always had irreconcilably different methods. "I made the mistake on the Fischer job of not doing enough background. I've learnt my lesson." He sank into thought for a moment, worry forcing his eyebrows to crease together, before he looked up and continued. "Ariadne, you need to carry on with the designs, we can modify them as we collect more information. I'm going to follow the girl, Ophelia, and see what we can find out from that. Eames, you're going to need to –"

"Do anything else? I'm on it. Let me know if you need any documents forging," he complied. "Are we going to need Yusuf again?"

"We might do," Arthur conceded, thinking to himself. "It depends how difficult it's going to be to implement. I'll keep you posted on that. Shall we call it a day?"

"I'm going to stay and finish this off," Ariadne murmured, holding up an intricate drawing of a floor plan. She said goodnight to Eames and Arthur and watched as they left the warehouse, smiling inwardly at the fact that Arthur seemed to have assumed the leadership role and Eames seemed to have handled it relatively well.

* * *

It didn't take long for Arthur to reach the apartment he was renting during their stay in London. He switched on a lamp and placed his black, leather briefcase on the table, alongside the metal one that was already there, containing all they needed to enter and share dreams. He shrugged out of his jacket, put his gun on the table and sat down in one of the dining chairs, staring disdainfully at the furnishings. They were not his own, of course. He barely had time to decorate his own home, let alone to organise temporary accommodation, hence the awful, minimal, pale wood furnishings, with the neutral colours and the soulless finishings - the fake lilies on the table and the beige candles on the windowsill. It was every kind of awful. He couldn't dwell on details like that though, not when there were far more important details to memorise.

He sighed heavily, a small display of the put-up-and-shut-up attitude he had learned to adopt so long ago, and fetched a slender cardboard folder out of his briefcase. Tomorrow he would commence his research into the mark, and he wanted to prepared. The only thing he was not prepared to do was to ignore essential details. Not this time.

There was an extremely limited amount of information in the folder that Martov had provided, and the whole job felt somewhat like the blind leading the blind, something one could not afford to be in this field of espionage. He placed all of the information separately on the table in order to observe them as a whole - each piece of paper parallel, true to Arthur's precise form.

There, in the centre, was a photo of the mark, Ophelia Smith, leaving a town house in Central London that must've cost more than some people made in a year. It looked like the sort of shot you'd find in a celebrity magazine, a young girl photographed unawares as she left her home and the wind whipped her hair across her face. Arthur could only imagine the lengths Martov had gone to to acquire such a shot. She was undeniably a beautiful girl, but she looked too young and too innocent to be embroiled in such a scheme. Arthur felt a tug of guilt that she was to become involved in the whole thing.

He leaned back to study her features. Her long, blonde hair fell around her face and shoulders in haphazard waves, her darker roots showing at her centre parting. She was thin, but not obnoxiously so, only the faint hint of cheek and collar bones struggling against her pale flesh. Her facial features were small, delicate. She looked like a normal university student, not like a girl about to unwittingly become involved in illegal activities.

Arthur glanced over the rest of the information that Martov had provided – childhood, residences, bank accounts, education – making brief notes as he went along. She lived in the fourth floor apartment of a townhouse near Regents Park in Central London. She was studying Psychology at UCL and every morning she would travel by foot to the university, before returning home on the tube, getting on at Euston Square and off at Baker Street. Aside from these basics, which would have been obvious to anyone tailing her, they had very little to go on.

Arthur exhaled, resolving to follow her tomorrow and try to pick up something more substantial. Until the sun rose, there was really very little to be done. He kicked away from the table, moving into the small kitchen and fetching two sleeping pills and a glass of water. It was not long before he fell asleep on the couch, his mind completely clear. No dreams could permeate his mind anymore, and he had still formed no opinion on whether that was good or not.

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_Reviews would be amazing. I'd love to hear what you all think! Criticism also welcome ;)_


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